Mistaken fate took her in its arms
Wielding wildly its dark charms
Fake and plastic upon the embrace
Not same child body, not same child face
Blooded Butterfly Wings
Part 3
Of All The Stars
She opened her eyes as she lay on the floor. She was dressed again. She forgot whether he had done it, or had she in the wake of the act.
He left the light on.
It flickered as it almost sputtered out.
She saw the form lying across from her.
Rei.
She stared as the body breathed in and out, distorting the shadow of her back as she did. Rei wasn't facing her.
Kaji wasn't here anymore.
She had no one.
She had nothing.
But, she had Rei.
Her tongue moved in the syllable of her name, but no sound came out. It moved as she began to nudge the other girl. One scarred finger pressed into her shoulder, pushing into the soft skin. She grabbed the shoulder, took it entirely in her hand, and began to shake her.
No reaction came from the other girl.
Her eyebrows furrowed. She shook harder. She pushed the body onto its belly. The arms folded beneath the chest and disappeared from view. She hit the back, a hollow sound echoing through the torso and ribs.
Nothing.
Her mouth moved furiously in old and unused mimicry of words. The lips pounded together as she drew her fists and beat the spine, backbone distinct against starved ribs. She put her hands under and pushed, heaving her onto her side.
Red.
The red eyes.
They stared forward, looking like frozen blood in the dying light.
They didn't look at her.
Instead, they reacted as if she were a ghost.
The eyes were right, though.
They were all ghosts.
Still, she had to talk to someone.
Rei hadn't spoken since she hit her head. She hit it against the window. Rei had cracked her forehead against the painted glass, over and over again. She just stood there as she did, not even noticing the pain or the blood or the cracks in the window. Her face became streaked with the essence of her eyes. They didn't seem to mind her constant mutilation of herself, and they starved her silent tongue.
Her fingers wrapped around the slender ivory throat and began to squeeze. This brought a reaction from her, as her cheeks began to pink up around the edges. Her body was gasping for the air. She squeezed harder.
Please, Rei. Talk to me. Wake up and talk to me.
The girl raised her arms and began to claw at the hands. She felt the scratches welt up as she kept her grip. They burned her scars, but she could not let up. She had to wake Rei.
Please hurry Rei.
The moon no longer existed in her face. It had begun to turn purple from the blood. The colored veil shaded over her face as she clawed at the hands that held her.
"Asuka…"
Her eyes widened, the white almost swallowing the blue.
She dropped the girl onto the floor.
Her name.
Her name.
Her name wasn't Red-Trash. It was Asuka.
Asuka.
Asuka, Shinji and Rei.
Her hands shook as she looked at them. The dark purple scars lifted up on her palms in ridges and smooth lavender creases. The blood was brought up again, just like before, and did not crease her wrists this time, and they had not been self-inflicted.
Her name was Asuka.
Her knees wobbled.
She remembered her own scream, and the silence Rei had given her from the beginning. There had been no plan for escape, even as the wheels moved behind blooded eyes, there had been nothing to save them both.
The skirt whooshed around her legs before settling on her calves as she fell to the mattress, her knees knocking on the cold floor. The greasy hair flew into her eyes, but she could still see her hands through the sunset-tinted locks.
She remembered.
Her stomach had cringed as she heard the door breaking. The metal tag with Misato's name had hit the floor with a distinct ring. The voices of anger and hate had poured through the apartment quickly, falling on her ears like swift spring rain. Shinji had been asleep.
Her chest had hurt with the fear as she tried to wake him.
They opened the door to the room, bursting through the darkness with the beams of flashlights blinding her and waking her friend. They grabbed her first, then Shinji.
Forever they held her tight, bruising her arms as she squirmed against the grip of a man she didn't know then. It was David. A woman in her forties with dimming brown hair paced the room as they discussed back and forth across the room and on the radio. They kept saying they couldn't find Misato. They couldn't find any of the NERV personnel. However, they had found the pilots of the Evangelions, the Children, the sinners.
According to the woman she now knew as Miss Vicky, the girls could be saved and could repent against the dark will of mankind. They would be made into things worthy of God. The boy, however, was the original sinner. He could not be saved.
The boy would die.
The boy died.
He was standing beside her.
The bullet ripping through his stomach.
It tore through her as much as it did him.
And it had torn every moment of every day in the darkness of a dirty room.
"Shinji…"
Somehow, she felt relief as the vibration went up her throat and out her lips.
But he had heard her.
She knew this went the door made an ominous crash into the opposite wall and the silhouette of David stood in the door.
"Did you say something Red-Trash?!"
She stared at him for a moment as he stood fuming at her. She covered her mouth with her hand. She felt the smile creased up into her dirty face. Her shoulders began to jump like puckish sprites in the wood. She could not hold it back any longer.
She laughed.
She laughed as if she had never done it before. Her eyes watered and she held her stomach to her. She looked at David as he was both furious and confused at her madness.
"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want."
She giggled softly into her palm.
"He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters."
She heard the footsteps draw quickly a dance across the floor. Her words quickened as her heart sped across her chest.
"He restores my soul! He guides me to paths of righteousness for His name's sake!"
She shrieked before she felt the hand across her jaw.
She hit the floor hard.
"Even though I walk…"
A kick cast itself on her ribcage. She gasped aloud.
"Even though I walk through the valley of death…"
She felt them splinter this time, and her cry called out against the walls.
"I fear no evil!"
She cried out again as the hands grabbed her ears and tossed her to the floor. Her cheekbones hit first, splitting the flesh against bone. The red rushed down her face as if she'd been crying tears of blood for a century. He pulled her up and threw her against the wall, and she felt her back bruise.
Then it didn't even hurt anymore.
It was as if no one was even touching her.
Then no one was.
She heard the voices, rushed, as if they were echoing a thousand miles away. They weren't normal voices from here. They were unfamiliar in all their vague sounds. She barely felt David's rough hands being pulled from her skull, where he had been bashing it against the stained wall.
She watched with no emotion as the men argued and tried to capture him with binds.
He didn't like this.
A roll of quick thunder came.
David's head exploded and his blood stained the wall beside hers.
She felt herself slide down the wall to the floor. She closed her eyes. She felt soft-handed arms on her shoulders. She opened them again. In front of her was not a face from this place. The brown irises brimmed with sympathy and care. She remembered these eyes.
"Misato…" she said with a hint of smile crossing her face.
Then she closed her eyes again.
That took a lot longer than I thought it would… oh well! It was done, so you can't really argue with progress. Oh, and the story isn't over with, it's only just begun!
NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW: After being rescued, Asuka is brought home. She is relieved to be away from her prison, but she finds even more torment in Tokyo-3 when she discovers she has been replaced by another pilot, and the discovery of ghosts she can't confront isn't a comforting thought either.
More soon!